Scream 4: Still Screaming
by NirvanaRawkz
Summary: It's happening again. Will Sidney ever be safe? She wants to just forget Woodsboro along with everything else, but how can she? - Constructive Critism more than welcomed!
1. Introduction

Author's Note: I do not own any of the recognizable characters. I wish I owned Billy *Evil Grin* anyway, the unfamiliar characters are mine.

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~Introduction~

Heather and her best friend Kaitlyn were spending their Saturday night at Heather's house again. It was pretty much the same routine. They'd usually wait until Heather's parents went out, which they always did, then they'd call their boyfriends over. 

This Saturday was no different. Kaitlyn had stopped by the video store to rent a variety of movies. You see, that was the only difference between the girls. Heather just loved a sappy romance, but Kaitlyn she enjoyed a good gory film any day. Other than that they were as close as any two people could be. 

"Shall we call the boys?" Heather asked, flashing an evil grin. 

Kaitlyn just nodded her head, she was setting up the DVD player in the living room.

Heather walked out into the hall and picked up the cordless phone. When she made her way back into the living room, Kaitlyn was already putting in the first movie of the night. Then she sat down on the sofa with a huge bowl of popcorn. 

Just as Heather began to push the talk button, the phone rang. She jumped a bit, startled by the sudden ringing sound. Kaitlyn laughed, accidentally spitting popcorn out as she did so. Then she laughed at that too.

Heather stared at the phone for a long moment. It rang about four times before she finally picked up. She had been in a sort of shock. Then humiliation from her friend laughing at her.

"Hello?" She asked into the receiver. 

No answer came from the other end, except a long breath. Raspy almost. Heather immediately thought it was one of their friends playing a trick. 

"Why you breathing so hard? Are you jacking it, Gav?" She teased. The girls shared one friend, that wasn't exactly the coolest around. His need for masturbation was the joke of the school.

"Who's Gav?" The raspy voice asked. 

Heather only smiled, that comment had made her think it was Gavin even more.

"Why did it take you so long to answer the phone?" The voice asked. At this point she couldn't be sure if it was male or female. 

"What?" She asked. 

Kaitlyn, getting thoroughly annoyed because she was having to wait to turn up the volume, turned to Heather. "Hang up on whoever the fuck that is."

Heather held up a hand silencing her. 

"Why are you being so quiet? Don't you want to talk to me, Heather?" The eerie voice spoke her name though she hadn't said it. It had to be one of her friends she reassured herself.

"Who is this?" She finally asked. "Is this a pathetic trick to scare me?" 

"No. I only want to play a little game with you. Where is the trick in that?" The voice asked. 

Heather thought about it a long moment. Twirling a strand of her long brown hair in one hand, holding the phone in the other, and tapping her foot impatiently. After a few moments she decided to go along with the person. She had always been outgoing, all of her life. 

"Fine, what kind of game?" She asked. 

Kaitlyn let an exasperated sigh escape her throat. Heather began walking aimlessly around the house. The lights were out, she flipped the kitchen one on as she entered. 

"First, tell me who the other girl is there with you? The red head." He spoke low. 

"What? How did you know?" She asked. She knew he had probably heard her voice a minute ago. But how did he know her hair color. 

"Tell her she has very lovely eyes." He still spoke low. 

Heather looked around the kitchen. Squinting her eyes to see into the dark crevices of the room. Then she turned her attention to her parents bedroom. The door was opened. She couldn't see anything abnormal. 

"Who are you?" She asked rudely.

"Don't take that tone with me!" The voice exclaimed. "Come on let's play the game." 

"Well fine, get it over with." She scoffed. She was tired of this person's foolish games. 

"Now Heather, is that anyway to treat me?" The voice asked. 

"I don't know you, I have no reason to treat you nicely." She replied defiantly. 

"Oh yes you do." He laughed a little. "Think." 

She thought a long moment. "Bryon?" She said the name of her boyfriend. 

"No, wrong." The voice replied. Then laughed again. "Oh well, let's get on with the game. What's your favorite scary movie?"

Heather laughed. Thinking that wasn't exactly original. "Is this all you can do? Call random people and act like those stupid "Stab" movies? You need a life, my friend." She hung up the phone. 

She heard a loud bang on the door. She thought it was Bryon and Ray, their boyfriends. She quickly made her way to the door. Opening it full. 

"Bryon, it's about ti-." She cut herself off when she saw no one was outside the door. "Hello?" She called out. 

After standing there a long moment and getting no response, she went back inside. She closed the door, but deliberately left it unlocked. She wanted Bryon to be able to get in after she went in to watch the movie. Because the movie would be to loud to hear a knock. 

Her house had an eerie silence to it. Then she heard the TV volume rise. She let out a sigh. The tension of the phone call had left her feeling a bit shaky. 

She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of beers. Even though she and Kaitlyn were only eighteen. She pushed her foot on the swinging door of the living room, when the phone rang again. 

"Argh!" She groaned. She walked back over to where she had left the phone on the counter. 

"Hello?" 

"You hung up. That hurts me." The voice said in a pitiful tone.

"Yeah, well. I'm sorry." She actually meant it. She was a very caring person, and was always available to listen. 

The voice laughed. "I don't care. So anyway, come on, what's your favorite scary movie?" 

Heather sighed again. Opened her can of beer, and took a sip. "Okay I don't like horror films." She replied.

"But Kaitlyn does. So you must have seen some." He started. "In fact she's watching one now." 

Again she surveyed the area. "Yeah, I've seen some. But not many." She began to look out the windows, and under the table.

"Well you have to have a favorite one." Came the reply over the phone.

"Fine. Damn you are so annoying." She scoffed. "I'd have to say "Stab". The first one. The sequels sucked." 

"That's the one with Billy Loomis right?" The voice asked. 

"Mm-hmm." She replied. 

"Good movie. And what makes it even better is it's true." The raspy voice said in a low monotone. 

"What?" She asked, she had never heard of it being a true story before. 

"Oh yes… very true. Woodsboro. Sidney Prescott, the garage, everything you've seen in those Stab movies are true." 

She was sure this had to be a man, no girl would be sick enough to do this. 

"Listen, I'm busy okay. So I have to go now. Buh-bye." She hung up again. 

She grabbed up the beer and opened the living room door. 

The TV blasted the sounds of '_Nightmare on Elm Street_.' It was so loud it hurt Heather's ears.

"Damn, why do you have to volume up so loud, Kaitlyn?" She asked not looking where she was going. She walked around to the TV, turning it down, then she turned to the sofa. 

She screamed and dropped the beer cans. "Oh my God!" She stared in horror at her friend. The blood stained the white leather sofa. And was dripping onto the floor. She followed the bloody trail from her friend to the coffee table. She screamed again. 

There in the bowl of popcorn was her friend's decapitated head. Her eyes wide with fright. Her mouth looking as though it was screaming. The dead eyes stared at her. 

Heather felt sick, and threw up onto the floor. She grabbed her stomach as she started to panic. 

"That can't be good." She heard he same voice from behind her. On the stairs. She turned around to see a dark form, the shadows fell over it. When it stepped into the light. She could see he was dressed in a black Halloween costume. The ones like they used in the Stab movies. The ghost mask staring at her. She wasn't able to see the person's eyes because of the black mesh-like eye holes. 

She turned in the other direction. She began to run. Hearing his footsteps right behind her. She ran out into the night. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her lower back. She reached her hand around, feeling the ice cold metal of a blade sticking out of her back. She looked at her hands, warm blood, her warm blood dripped from her fingertips. 

She felt sick again, she threw up into the grass. She stared in horror as blood came out of her mouth. She tried to scream, but was too overcome by fear. 

Suddenly the knife was violently pulled from her back. She ran again, not looking back. She knew who would be there. She ran around the corner of the house, feeling safe at last. She looked off in the distance. Her aunt's farm was only about a mile away. She could make it if she didn't stop running. 

She turned the next corner of her house. Running into someone. She knew the killer was behind her. Slowly she raised her eyes, to the same ghost mask. She could hear laughter from under the mask.

She turned and began to run in the other direction. The killer's footsteps were close behind her. But the person was walking, not running. It was as if the killer knew his victim would perish. No need to run. Unless of course you are that victim. 

She ran into the field. The shadowy figure stepped out from behind the barn. Walking straight towards her. She felt more blood come up into her mouth. The foul taste making her sick again. Her hand was clasped tightly on her back. Attempting to hold in her blood, is what it looked like.

"Please, God." She whispered. When she turned around she was face to face with ghost face again. 

The awful realization hit her. There were two. She turned around again. Trapped between them. The one holding the bloody knife stabbed her in the stomach. Knocking her to the ground in pain. She tried to stand. 

"What's wrong? Feeling a little tired?" One of them asked. A hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Her mind rushed. Why couldn't they just leave her alone. She looked up to the one in front of her. He raised his hand to his mask, slowly revealing himself to her. Her mouth slacked open in shock. She shook her head no. 

Then the second killed brought his knife down on the back over her neck. Severing her spinal cord from her brain. Blood spurted from her nose and mouth as she fell to the ground, her body trembling involuntarily. 

****

To Be Continued… Constructive Criticism welcomed.


	2. Happening Again?

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*One*

Happening Again?

Dewey Riley sluggishly put his feet over the side of the bed. He glanced back at his slumbering wife. He leaned in to kiss her cheek. 

"Dewey stop. I'm trying to sleep." She patted his hand away. 

Every time he looked at her, he wondered how they could actually be married. It had been a long hard road for both of them. They first met in Woodsboro when Dewey was the deputy, and his wife was a news reporter. She also had her own television show. In a way he had had a fascination with her prior to the Woodsboro murders. Which happened nearly ten years ago. 

Finally after thinking about his relationship with Gale Weathers for about ten minutes he stood. He stretched out his arms in the air, yawning loudly. 

He walked over to his closet. Taking out the shirt and pants he wanted to where that day. Gale still slept peacefully as he walked out of the bedroom, and into the adjacent bathroom.

He turned on the hot water, and took a quick shower. Which woke him up quickly. He was ready for another day, working with the police still. But not doing field work. All he could do now is help in the homicide division. Helping the officers track the clues to the serial killers. 

He ran the bright blue towel over his body, then got dressed quickly. When he arrived downstairs, Gale was awake now. She stood behind the stove. A two-year old tugging on her pant leg. 

"Not now." She said to the child.

The little girl then went over to Dewey. He picked her up. She was their daughter Kayla Maye. Then Dewey kissed Gale on the cheek, and preceded to take his daughter to her playroom. 

She immediately started playing with the toys. Hundreds of them, dolls, dress-up jewelry, games. Everything a little kid could want. 

After Dewey made sure she was playing contently he went back to the kitchen. Gale handed him his breakfast. Of eggs, bacon and toast. He grabbed some orange juice and went into the living room.

He flipped on the television, and settled back into the couch to eat and watch the news. Like he did every morning. 

"Bodies of eighteen year olds Heather McLiger and Kaitlyn James were found late last night at the McLiger home just outside of Woodsboro. Authorities have yet to issue the final statement. But it's being said that this is the haunting return to the massacre that rocked our safe community only ten years ago." A male news reporter said over the television.

Dewey dropped his orange juice to the floor. His mouth open in shock.

"Gale!" He called to his wife. 

"What?!" She snapped back obviously annoyed that he was interrupting her own breakfast.

"I think you should come see this." Dewey said. The ex-deputy's police instincts kicked back in. He could think of only one thing.

Gale walked in. "This better be important…" She trailed off when she saw the newscaster holding up the ghost face mask she remembered all too well.

"Where's Sid?" Dewey asked. 

"She's visiting her dad." Gale said the words that Dewey had feared. Neil Prescott still lived in Woodsboro. There was no proof that these new killings were related, but he had to warn Sid. 

"What? You don't think it's happening again, do you?" Gale questioned. "It's probably just some bratty teenagers wanting to relive their favorite scary movie." 

"Yeah, that sounds familiar." Dewey said, thinking back to the two psychotic killers, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher. 

"Dewey, this doesn't concern us." Gale said. She didn't want to be involved this time. She had sold three novels about her experiences. And though, she often visited television shows to tell her stories. She didn't truly want to do it again. 

"If it concerns Sid, it concerns us. We've all been through this together, Gale." 

Slowly Gale knew he was right. She sighed and agreed. Of course she still believed it was just a movie re-enactment. From what she had heard on the News channel, it reminded her a lot of Casey Becker. Billy's first victim. 

After cleaning up the mess with the orange juice, Dewey set out for the Prescott house. Not knowing how to warn her. But he had time to think about it on the thirty-minute drive there.


End file.
